


The Art of Scoring a Date Through Dentistry

by leighwrites



Series: Reddie Oneshots [12]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, a gift for my shoshanna banana, there's nothing to see here but cute fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: “If I’d known that study outside meant oggle the guy I have a crush on I would have never agreed to let you come out here.” Stan says, nudging Richie in the back of his head with his knee. “You have a final in two weeks, Rich. Study.”Richie rubs at the back of his head as he leans back, staring up at Stan who looks somewhat irritated. “I was studying asshole.” He gestures to the page in front of him in his notebook. “I just got distracted for a moment because they were yelling down there.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Reddie Oneshots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479170
Comments: 12
Kudos: 144





	The Art of Scoring a Date Through Dentistry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Studpuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Studpuffin/gifts).



Richie hates college. It shoves so much work down his throat that it’s a wonder he hasn’t vomited it all back up. He hates the amount of pressure that comes with this stupid dental course he’s taking, but college  _ does  _ have its upsides. The first upside is that he gets to room with Stan, his best friend since the age of three. Stan’s been through thick and thin with him, and Richie’s never met anyone more loyal. Stan keeps him in line too, making sure that Richie has adequate study times and gets a certain amount of work done in those times. Sure, Richie hates his course but that doesn’t mean he wants to fail it. The second upside is a spitfire named Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Richie’s never really spoken to the blonde much outside of their shared computer class, which is just a blow off class, and even then anything they say is short and to the point. He knows that most people find Eddie intimidating, but Richie’s never understood it. Sure, he has a short temper and plays on the college soccer team but that doesn’t mean he’s scary. Does it? Maybe Richie’s missing something, though he’s not sure how he could considering he spends so much time watching him.

“That’s a foul, Kaspbrak!”

“That’s fucking bullshit!”

Richie looks up from his notebook, having almost forgotten that he’s doing his work outside on the bleachers since it’s a warm day. Eddie’s arguing with the captain on the field, he’s  _ always  _ arguing with the captain, and it usually doesn’t take long before Eddie kicks a shoe at him. Eddie knows the game better than most of the team. He knows what constitutes as a foul and what doesn’t. He knows how to play. Richie doesn’t understand why the captain keeps arguing.

“If you do a kick like that in the game you’re gonna get sent off!” The captain tries to reason, the black and white ball tucked under his arm and hugged against his side. “You just hit Bill in the  _ face _ .”

“That’s a fucking warning at  _ best _ .” Eddie bites back, face red and sweaty from all the running and kicking drills they had been doing.

Richie glances to the goalpost, where Bill is standing directly between them, as he chews on of his pen idly. Bill is clutching at his nose with gloved hands, eyes watering from the impact of the ball slamming into his nose. Bill’s tough. You have to be to be a goalie. There’s always a chance the ball is going to hit an extremely painful area, or you’re gonna slam into the metal poles trying to stop the ball. Richie’s seen both happen to Bill now during his study times in the bleachers. Bill lowers his hands from his face, and there’s a red smear under his nose. Nothing is broken, but the impact was enough for some light bleeding. 

He claps his hands together, the sound echoing from the leather gloves as they meet, and then presses them to his thighs, taking the goalkeeping stance back up again. “It’s fine come on! I don’t think he was  _ aiming  _ for my nose Josh!”

Eddie motions to Bill, a pleased look crossing his face. “See, he’s fucking fine!”

Richie ends up forgetting his work, attention solely fixed on Eddie. He moves with determination, and he’s flawless on the pitch. He knows the perfect angle to kick the ball hard enough so it curves. It throws Bill off and he’s unable to block the shot. Richie doesn’t doubt that Eddie could go pro if he wanted. He’s the best on the team, and the team knows it too. Richie’s heard other people talk about Eddie’s skill, calling him the demon striker, and that reputation follows him everywhere. Richie kind of gets it whenever he watches him train. It’s like Eddie channels some unknown aggression into every pound of his foot against the grass, and every slam of his foot against the ball.

And it’s not wrong. Eddie has a lot of of aggression bubbling through him due to his mother that needs to be let out. He’s never  _ told  _ anyone though. Telling them means he has to admit to every little lie he believed, admit to every manipulative trick she’s pulled. Bill is the only one who knows and that’s because they grew up together. Bill is his best friend. He doesn’t see him as weak. But others would, and Eddie Kaspbrak would never allow himself to be smothered and coddled like that again.

“If I’d known that  _ study outside  _ meant  _ oggle the guy I have a crush on  _ I would have never agreed to let you come out here.” Stan says, nudging Richie in the back of his head with his knee. “You have a final in two weeks, Rich. Study.”

Richie rubs at the back of his head as he leans back, staring up at Stan who looks somewhat irritated. “I  _ was  _ studying asshole.” He gestures to the page in front of him in his notebook. “I just got distracted for a moment because they were yelling down there.”

Stan leans over Richie and looks at the page before he snorts, kneeing Richie in the back of the head again. “Drawing Eddie’s name in a heart doesn’t constitute as studying.”

Richie looks down at the page where he’s copied down various notes on impacted wisdom teeth, his eyes landing on the heart scrawled just to the left in the page margin. “Wow okay, didn’t even realise I’d done that one.” He taps his pen under one of his notes. “But I  _ have  _ been studying, see?”

Stan sighs, taking a seat next to Richie and grabbing the notebook from his lap to see if he’s done a sufficient amount of notes for the day. “Why don’t you just ask him out instead of just staring at him when he’s not looking? The Richie Tozier I know doesn’t pine. He makes the worst jokes ever and somehow lands a date with them.”

Richie frowns, looking back out at the pitch where Eddie is talking to Bill, no doubt checking on him after the ball he’d kicked into his face. “You know why.”

Stan glances to Richie’s textbook, finding the part he was noting for his study guide. “Because he plays sports and you don’t? We’re not in highschool anymore Rich. That kind of thing… it doesn’t matter anymore. This is college. No one cares about that shit.”

“What happened to the Stan who said he was no longer partaking in my dumb dating life?”

“He got annoyed watching you pine.” Stan closes the notebook, raises it, and smacks it against Richie’s head. “So ask him out dumbass.”

“Ow - fuck you Stan.” Richie grumbles, rubbing at his head with one hand and snagging his notebook back. “It wouldn’t work and you know it wouldn’t. It never does.”

Stan climbs to his feet, throws his hands up, and starts to walk off. “Pakhdn!”

“Hey I know what that means jerk!” Richie calls after him, gathering up his books and climbing across the bleachers after Stan. “Get a new insult.”

“I don’t need to when that one works so well.”

Maybe if Richie spent less time arguing with Stan or being deep in his notes and a little more time paying attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed that Eddie stares at him too. Eddie noticed about two weeks ago that Richie likes to study outside when the weather is nice. Sometimes when he needs to take a moment on the pitch to calm down, he watches Richie study. He watches the look of concentration on his face and the way his brow furrows when he doesn’t  _ quite  _ understand something in his textbook but it never lasts because Richie is smart, and he knows that because he hears him talk to people around campus.

Richie rambles, but he always knows what he’s talking about. Eddie sees the way that people get bored with listening, the way they ignore what he’s saying, but Eddie could listen to him all day. Their conversations are few and far between but any time they  _ do  _ talk Eddie learns something new whether it’s something about Richie, or something in general. Eddie likes that about him. He likes how intelligent Richie is. Sometimes he finds himself wondering what it would have been like to grow up with a friend like that. 

Eddie is slammed back into reality when the soccer ball collides against the side of his head roughly and Bill, the kicker of the ball, starts laughing at the startled expression that comes to his face. “If I can land a hit on you then it means you need to stop staring at Richie all the time and focus!” 

Eddie groans, turning to face Bill and swinging his leg out to kick the ball back towards the goal. “Mind your own business!”

Bill makes a dive to the left and catches the ball, stumbling on the land. He grips the ball, jogs forward, and drops it to kick it back out. “I’m just saying if he’s so distracting to your training you just need to ask him out.”

“I fail to see your logic.” Eddie quips, jumping to catch the ball against his chest before raising a knee to bounce the ball against it to his other one. “Wouldn’t that be  _ more  _ distracting?”

“Not really. He’s only this distracting because he’s something you want and you’re not letting yourself have. If you let yourself have that something, it’s less distracting because you’re not thinking what it’s like to be with them cause you already know.”

“Who says I even like him like that?” Eddie asks, allowing the ball to drop to the ground so he can kick it at Bill with enough force that Bill doesn’t even bother trying to stop it, stepping aside to let him score. “You’re supposed to stop people from scoring, Bill.”

“Not with your fucking shots I’m not. Not risking the hand snap.” Bill retrieves the ball from the back of the net and heads back into his kicking area with a grin. “Also you told me.”

“When the fuck did I ever tell you how I felt about Richie?”

“Just now.” Bill says, kicking the ball back to him.

Eddie notices that Richie doesn’t show up to the pitch for a few days, and he’s been skipping his computer class. It’s kind of concerning considering he’s used to seeing Richie most days. When it reaches a week, Eddie finds himself  _ weirdly  _ concerned and heading for his dorm. He knows where it is from studying with Stan, so he knows Richie won’t find it weird if he just shows up. He stands outside of the door marked two-three-six and raises a hand, knocking against the wood. He can hear music coming from inside. It’s soft and classical, definitely not something that Eddie associates with Richie which means Stan must be there. The door swings open a moment later to reveal Richie who is holding his phone, tapping the screen to stop the music. He’s dressed in the dental course uniform which tells Eddie he’s at  _ least  _ been going to  _ that  _ class.

“You didn’t strike me as  _ classical music  _ lover.”

“Study aid.” Richie explains, resting his arm against the doorframe. “The soothing notes keep the brain relaxed which means that information you’re taking in sticks better. So what can I do for you Eds?”

“I noticed you weren’t there - at class I mean. I wanted to check up on you.”

“He’s fine.” Stan calls from behind the door where he’s sitting on his bed. “He’s just being a pakhdn.”

“Oi.” Richie snaps over his shoulder, glaring in Stan’s general direction since the door is in the way. “I told you. I know what that means, and I’m not doing that.” His attention suddenly moves back to Eddie, and he leans against the doorframe slightly. “Now back to you. Everything’s fine. I’ve been bunking to study for my dental exam-”

“- which starts in an hour -”

“- except I hit a snag - Stan shut up - and the person I was meant to do the practical exam on bailed.”

“I don’t think bailed and hospitalized with a broken arm are the same thing.”

“Stan, I told you to shut up.  _ Anyway _ , Stan’s being a jerk -”

“ - how am I being a jerk for not wanting your gross fingers in my mouth?”

“We wear gloves! Why are you turning down a  _ free  _ dental check -”

“I’ll do it.” Eddie says, cutting Richie off before he can get too into the argument he’s having with Stan. “You know - if you don’t mind?”

Richie is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You… want to help me? You barely know me and you’re willing to let me stick my fingers in your mouth and poke around in there?”

Eddie shrugs. “You wear gloves, you need someone to do the exam on, and I’ve been so busy with training I haven’t been able to go to a check up. So why not?”

Richie stares at him, blinks in confusion, and then he smiles. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get you in a chair so I can poke around your mouth.”

Eddie is surprised at just  _ how  _ good Richie is at what he does when they’re in the exam. He can see a lot of the other students panicking from the corner of his eye while others are clearly doing a mental check but Richie seems really calm, diving into the exam. Richie takes it seriously, though he  _ does  _ crack the odd joke to keep Eddie calm. Richie knows that even though he’s the one taking the exam, Eddie is more nervous than he is since he’s the one trusting Richie to poke around in his mouth. 

Richie’s  _ thorough  _ too. Most of the students rush to get the exam done with but Richie isn’t one of them, and when he’s done, he hands his booklet to Eddie, already open on one of the pages. “You need to fill this section of the booklet in and I’m not allowed to look at it.” He tells Eddie, tugging off the gloves as he stands. “Don’t be nice on it - be honest. It’s a quarter of my grade.”

Richie passes his exam, somehow, and he doesn’t know how because he’s pretty sure he fucked up in a couple places or he did something that Eddie would have marked as a negative on his exam. Now that the exam is over and he’s passed, he’s allowed to look at what Eddie put down in his section of the booklet at the back, reading over it as he makes his way to the pitch. The section Eddie filled out is just a review, but the kind of review that meant everything if he was going to pass. Most of the section is just a case of circling yes or no, but the last part of the review is something that has Richie coming to a sudden stop.

**Describe your experience with the person taking the examination.**

Richie reads over Eddie’s response, closes the booklet quickly, and then continues his way to the pitch. The soccer practice is just ending when Richie gets there, and he spots Eddie at the goalpost, shirt slung over his shoulder as he drinks from a water bottle while Bill talks, yanking his own shirt back on. Richie can’t even begin to imagine how horrible it is to train in this heat. Eddie and Bill are both sweaty, and Bill’s hair is sticking to his face.

Richie crosses the pitch, rolling up the exam booklet which he swats lightly against Eddie’s head. “Looks like I owe you one.”

Eddie turns to face him, a grin breaking out on his face as he snags the booklet from Richie. “You passed?”

“I did. I got a ninety-eight thanks to you... even if you do have a weirdly perfect mouth.”

Bill chokes on his drink, looks between them, and confusion settles in. “I’m sorry  _ what _ ?”

“He’s a dental student.” Eddie says, flicking through the booklet. “Get your head out of the gutter. I just did him a favour because his patient dropped out.”

Richie nods, and takes the booklet back when Eddie hands it over. “Like I said, I owe you. Anything you want.”

“ _ Anything _ ?”

Bill groans, screwing the cap back onto his bottle. “I don’t need to hear these innuendos. I’m gonna go shower.”

“Honestly didn’t think he’d last  _ that  _ long.” Eddie says as Bill jogs across the pitch towards the locker room. “Okay, so repayment.”

“Repayment.” Richie repeats, tucking the booklet into his bag. “You name it, I’ll do it.”

Eddie considers it a moment, a soft hum sounding in his throat. “Okay. I know what I want. A date.”

“You literally could have asked me to do the most painful essay in the world that’s bugging you since you have a game coming up and you ask for a  _ date _ ?”

“Yeah. A date.” Eddie confirms, smiling up at him. “I like you. You think I never noticed you when you’re out here? There’s a reason I strike up conversations with you. I was trying to get to know you. You can say no to this one. If you’re uncomfortable I can think of something else.”

Richie’s quiet for a moment, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he thinks it over. “Okay. A date.”

Eddie takes Richie on a few dates. It quickly becomes their saturday night routine. Their affection never goes beyond hand holding. They talk more in classes. Richie shows up to every single practice and game Eddie has. They’re  _ basically  _ dating, and Stan’s pointed it out a few times, but they’ve never  _ said  _ they are and that’s the part that gets to Richie. He doesn’t  _ know  _ what they are so any time that someone asks him on a date he says ‘maybe some other time’ because he doesn’t know what else to say. They spend a whole summer apart, come back, and sink back into their routine except now it’s different because the four of them are living under one roof - Stan, himself, Bill, and Eddie.

They’re in the living room studying, or well Eddie is studying on the floor at the coffee table. Richie is sitting cross legged propped up against the arm of the sofa, flicking idly through a booklet of places where he can go after college to do an apprenticeship so he can become a registered dentist. Eddie lets out a frustrated huff and Richie looks up from the booklet, raising his hand to nudge his glasses back up his face. Eddie’s always frustrated when he studies, because he studies too much at once, and if he keeps this up he’s going to become unbearable to his housemates. He’s  _ already  _ in the phase where he’s muttering at the pages.

“You’re doing it again.” Richie says, smiling when Eddie suddenly looks less frustrated, looking up from his work almost apologetically. “It’s okay, you’re just frustrated. Take a break before you burn yourself out.”

He’s surprised that Eddie actually takes his advice, closing his book and joining Richie on the sofa. Usually Eddie argues whenever someone tells him what to do, or how to do it. “So why are  _ you _ so quiet, Rich? Usually I can’t shut you up.”

Richie tosses his booklet onto the table next to Eddie’s work. “Just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.” Eddie teases, nudging Richie’s leg with his foot. “What’s on your mind?”

“What are we?”

Whatever Eddie had been expecting, it wasn’t this. “We’re Richie and Eddie.”

Richie rolls his eyes and uncrosses his legs, nudging a foot into Eddie’s leg. “That’s not what I meant. We go on dates. We hold hands on those dates. That’s all we do. People ask me out and I don’t know if I should be saying yes, some other time, or sorry I have a boyfriend.”

Eddie stalls at that for a moment, the realisation sinking in. The attempt to not become some smothering monster who doesn’t give people room to breathe like his mother is affecting other people now. “Well, I don’t take other people on dates.” Eddie pushes up onto his knees to move closer to Richie. “I don’t want other people taking  _ you  _ on dates.” He crawls over Richie’s legs until he can sit himself in his lap. “I’d say that makes us dating, and it sounds like that’s what you want too.” Eddie leans down, brushing his nose against Richie’s. “So I think next time someone asks you on a date you should tell them you have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t knowww, I think you need to prove that boyfriend statement to me.”

Eddie smiles, brings a hand up to Richie’s neck to hold him in place, and draws him into a kiss. It’s long enough that the message sinks in, but still too short for Richie’s liking. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner. I’m bad at…  _ showing affection _ .” He strokes his thumb against Richie’s jaw. “I’ll tell you someday, okay? Just… bear with me while I get used to this.”

“Take your time Eds I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
